Reminiscent
by Aynslesa
Summary: No matter what the future brings, the past should never be forgotten. A collection of Omega-verse one-shots - multiple pairings and themes, yaoi/shounen-ai/het. New: Legacy - With Mars' corruption growing stronger each day, Shiryu pays a final visit to some dear friends.
1. Reminiscent - Aries Kiki

**Author's Notes:** I want to give everyone a heads up that for the next month or so, updates might be a bit sparse and irregular. I've decided to participate in this year's NaNoWriMo, and so much of my time and energy during November will be dedicated to orginial works rather than fanfiction. Come December I should be back to my normal semi-schedule (I hope!) ^.^ Also, let me just apologize right away for this not being a chapter for End of Innocence, which is what I *should* have been working on. However, after watching Omega's episode 29 last night, this particular plot bunny worked its way into my mind, and I couldn't focus on anything until I wrote up this little bit of tribute. I just felt that it *had* to be done, so I hope everyone can forgive me for my indulgence, and I hope that you enjoy it anyway!

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**Reminiscent**

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A lone figure stood atop the cliff, gazing out at the column of golden light that stretched up towards the heavens, the winding stone staircases twisting around it in a macabre spiral, interrupted by the floating plateaus spread out at equal distances along the route. One, two, three…only four were visible before the light and stairs disappeared into the clouds, but he could visualize the rest with ease. There would be twelve in all, the Twelve Houses of the Gold Zodiac, all apart of Mars' _false_ Sanctuary.

It was a mockery of truth. The ultimate falsehood built upon a tower of lies.

He had been prepared for this moment for years, never quite knowing when it would come and yet readying himself all the same. Thirteen years since Mars' first descent; thirteen years since the post-Holy War peace had been shattered, resulting in a chilling shadow of twenty-five years past - friend against friend, brother against brother. And once again the Pegasus Saint stood at the edge of it all, comrades gathered around him, preparing to fight, preparing to stand up for his beliefs and to defend those that he loved.

His gaze drifted from the Zodiac spiral to the Tower of Babel, and he clenched his fist tightly. He could feel them gathering, the golden Cosmos, and most of all he could feel _him_ – darkness itself, prepared to rend the Earth asunder to fulfill his ultimate goals. The past months had been almost torturous for him, knowing what Mars was doing, sensing the death of the land as the elements were drained from the Earth, and yet he could do _nothing_. The day that Mars had attacked that lone, isolated island and Athena – the _true_ Athena – had vanished, he had taken himself from his temple and disappeared, hiding himself away from his fellow Saints and his goddess. It had galled him to stand by and do nothing as Palaestra was destroyed, as rookie and veteran Saints, Bronze and Silver alike, were condemned and manipulated. Some of the younger Saints had never even laid _eyes_ upon Athena; how were they to know that Mars lied? It wasn't the first time such deception had blinded the eyes of the Saints.

The ironic similarities between the present and the past were not lost on him.

_Is this how you felt, Mu-sama, all of those years we spent isolated in Jamir?_ He closed his eyes, calling to mind the gentle green eyes and lavender hair of a man now long dead. One of his earliest memories consisted of his master standing on the tower balcony, staring off into the distance with a sad and longing look upon his face. It was only after he'd grown older and had discovered Mu's true identity – and that the destiny of Cloth Repairer and Aries Saint were one and the same – that he had realized the direction Mu had always been staring in had been Sanctuary. Mu had hidden himself away, concealed himself from the eyes of the Grand Pope, for _years_. His few months seemed paltry in comparison.

Thinking of Mu made him think of his own apprentice left behind at that same tower, and he wondered if Raki was standing on that same balcony, staring at the tower of light that was no doubt visible from all corners of the Earth. _Likely not,_ he thought wryly. _She's probably trying to come up with a way to follow me here even now_. Just as he would have done if Mu hadn't brought him along to Sanctuary – he was sure if his master were alive today, he'd have a dozen comparisons between Raki and his own younger self.

He'd had no choice in leaving his apprentice behind. She wasn't a full-fledged Cloth Repairer herself, but she had enough talent that she could prove to be too tempting for Mars, given how desperate the usurper was to get his hands on the _true_ Cloth Repairer. _As if I would _ever_ repair the Cloth of one of his accursed Marsians_, he thought distastefully. Let as many of _their_ Cloths break as possible; if he could only give Athena his support in such a small way, so be it.

And this wasn't like before, when he'd accompanied Mu. This time there was no goddess lying at the bottom of the hill in need of protection. This time, it was not desperation to save her that would drive the Bronze Saints, but a need for revenge. He would not be able to avoid combat – he only hoped that he would be able to complete his task.

He tilted his head up, returning his gaze once more to the golden light. _I will uphold the honor of the Gold Saints, Mu-sama. I will do what needs to be done for Koga, Ryuho and their friends, just as you once did for Seiya and his. I will _not_ let Mars win._ "As Aries Saint of the twenty-first century, so this I swear," he whispered.

For the briefest moment he thought he felt the brush of a familiar Cosmo, as warm and gentle as a spring's breeze, and for a second he was eight years old again, lying in front of the fireplace on a winter's night in Jamir, his head pillowed on his master's lap. He wiped at the lone tear gathering in the corner of one eye.

Then Aries Kiki looked to the first plateau, and the temple that stood upon it, and a slow smile spread its way across his face.

"Thank you," he whispered.

It was time.


	2. Legacy - Libra Shiryu

**Disclaimer: **Masami Kurumada and Toei Animation own all. I'm just borrowing the Saints for a bit. I'll give them back. Eventually. ^.^

**Author's Note:** So, I decided to turn Reminiscent into a collection of one-shots set in the Saint Seiya Omega universe. Most of them will follow a theme of the classic characters reflecting on the Omega timeline, though there'll probably be a few others thrown in for the mix. No update schedule, no idea how many I'll write, but this is just a place where I can keep them all together. ^.^ Please enjoy.

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**Legacy**

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It really was a peaceful place. Shiryu had never denied that, though the green-grassed hills dotted with trees and flowers were about as far from the mountainous, lush landscape of Mount Rozan as one could get, and there wasn't a waterfall within hundreds of miles. These hills hadn't always been as well-maintained as they were now – it was just one of the many changes that Saori had implemented following the final battle with Hades. Regardless of where their souls resided, she'd declared, the memories of their fallen brothers and sisters deserved to be preserved in beauty, not a decrepit and discarded plot of land.

Now instead of dirt and mud, bare trees and the occasional tuft of grass, the stone markers that dotted the Saint's Graveyard were spread out amongst rolling green dotted with a rainbow of color. Stone paths had been laid out, though there was no real rhyme or reason to where the markers stood, no carefully marked plot to maximize the space to its fullest potential. Many truly were only memorials – often times a Saint's death yielded no body in the end. Shiryu had been among the Saints who had assisted in restoring the Graveyard, as well as the rest of Sanctuary – it was hard to believe that thirteen years had passed since then. He could remember it as if it had been yesterday, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago.

He made his way along the pathways that crisscrossed the hills, following a trail that he knew by heart despite how long it had been since he'd last walked it. In the beginning he'd made the walk once a season, but over the years the visits held more and more time between them; from quarterly to twice a year, twice a year to once. He'd tried to keep it at that point, but he hadn't made it the year before. There had been too many changes. Not all of them for the better.

Sanctuary was quiet now, a silent and ominous backdrop in the distance. How long had it been since he'd actually felt at ease within its boundaries, felt the warmth of being surrounded by the Cosmo of allies, friends, brothers? It had only been a year; one year, and he could already feel tranquility cracking, on the verge of shattering. Sanctuary, the strongest fortress in the world, was being slowly corrupted by an unseen darkness.

The battles would not end. Already there had been casualties and prices to be paid. He could feel one them slowly working its way through his body now. Each day Shiryu felt it eating away at him, bit by bit, and knew that there would come a day when it would consume him. That inevitability was a heavy weight on his shoulders, one that could not just be cast aside and ignored.

Sometimes, though, it could be pushed aside for a few precious hours, to allow him time to focus on the things that more rightly deserved his attention.

The path ended at the crest of the hill, ending at a semicircle of modest stone tablets, each one engraved simply, a symbol and a name, a year, a one-or-two word appellation at the bottom carved at the bottom. The corner of Shiryu's mouth lifted slightly – the last time he'd been here, the grass had grown high enough to shroud those words. Now it was trimmed back on each, and each of the thirteen stones newly washed. _Shun_, he thought with affection, recognizing his friend's meticulous care.

The stones were not laid out in traditional order, as one might have expected, but rather in a way of meaning. It probably didn't matter one way or another to _them_, now, but memorials and graves were as much for those left behind as they were for those that they honored. And so it was that Shiryu was able to kneel before two of them, side by side, and look upon them with equal and honest respect.

He reached into the small bag that he held at his side and removed two candles, placing one in front of each stone and lighting it – not an easy task to do one-handed, but he managed without burning either himself or setting the grass on fire.

For a moment he sat there, staring at the flickering flame, collecting his thoughts before at last breaking the silence to speak.

"Forgive me for taking so long to come back," he said softly. "I wish I could have come sooner, but circumstances…well, I suppose you'd understand, wouldn't you?" They would, of course. Duty, honor, loyalty – nothing was more important, no sacrifice too great. Hadn't that lesson been drilled into him each day, from his first step onto that mountaintop? Hadn't that truth been evident in the fact that he was alive and breathing, and had not perished among the stars?

His throat tightened; he breathed in slowly, deeply, until he could regain control over his emotions. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to come back after this," he continued. "A new darkness threatens, and even though it's retreated for now, we can still feel his presence in the shadows. There may come a time soon when it will no longer be safe to come to Sanctuary. And I -" For a moment his eyes blurred, his vision altering, dimming as if someone had draped a thin black veil across his face. He closed his eyes in an attempt to banish it away, to ignore the sudden throbbing that had pierced through his skull and the ensuing vertigo.

It took only a moment for it to pass, though it felt twice as long and it left a deep-seated feeling of foreboding within him. The attacks came without warning, and he had noticed an increasing yet gradual worsening of their aftereffects.

He reached out, touching the tips of his fingers to cooling stone, just beneath the deep V of the symbol etched in marble. "My time is running out," he whispered. "I know I'm not the only one. We're all fighting battles from within, holding on as best as we can, pushing the darkness back. Saori-san has forbidden us from using our Cloths, has said that the drain on our Cosmos would be too great. She won't say as much, but I know she fears losing us the way…" The words caught in his throat for a moment, and his voice trembled, "the way we've lost Seiya."

The words hung in the air, a silent tribute to his best friend and fellow Saint. He was among the few who did not believe that Seiya's disappearance equated Seiya's death, but wherever the Sagittarius Saint was now, it was beyond their reach.

"I know he'll return to us," Shiryu said. "And if we are unable to fight at his side when he does, then I'll do everything I can to ensure that the next generation can carry on for us. I will not allow the lessons and gifts that you placed in my care to be lost. The next Dragon will not only be my successor, but yours as well."

A gentle breeze blew through the memorial suddenly, rustling blades of grass, causing the candle flames to flicker. Shiryu closed his eyes, and for a moment imagined that instead of slabs of rock he was kneeling before two great warriors, warriors who had made him the man was that he was this day. He owed more to them than he could ever repay.

"Ba?"

Shiryu looked down and found a bright, inquisitive pair of eyes the same shade as his staring up at him, set in a cherubic face and framed by strands of short, straight black hair. When their eyes met, a small fist pressed itself against tiny lips, a perfect picture of sweet innocence, and Shiryu felt his heart swell with pride.

He lifted the boy from his lap and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Did I wake you, Ryuho?" he asked, earning a shy giggle from the one-year-old in return. Shiryu turned him, holding him so that his son was facing the memorial stones, and watched fondly as the little boy stared first at the flickering candles with wide-eyed curiosity, then to symbols etched in marble that stood beyond them. Cooing, he reached out a chubby hand in an attempt to touch, and Shiryu moved him closer so that he could do so. As Ryuho's small fingers traced first the curved arch of Libra, and then the sharp V of Capricorn, a lump formed in the Dragon Saint's throat, and his eyes burned threateningly.

Ryuho gave a small protest when he was pulled back from his focused tracing, his displeasure quickly subsiding when he found himself tucked instead against his father's chest. He latched onto Shiryu's shirt and snuggled close, relaxing as he felt the gentle stroking of fingers through his hair.

"I wish you could have met them," Shiryu murmured. "I know you'll make them proud, my little dragon, and proud as you'll make me.

"_You_ will be our legacy."


End file.
